


Another Dose of Poison

by The_Grace_of_Cas (Space413)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abaddon - Freeform, Bunker Fic, Demons, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger, Handcuffs, Human Castiel, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Torture, Trials, Unresolved Tension, fallen!cas, guilty!cas, possessed!dean, supernatural season 9
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-29
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-27 22:46:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/984509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space413/pseuds/The_Grace_of_Cas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A demon hunts Cas through possessing Dean (post season 8), and Cas doesn't know that Dean's possessed. Convinced it's Dean and Dean is the one who wants him dead, Cas let's Dean start to kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dean was not going to die because of a simple, lower-level demon. Yes, he had been outnumbered and they’d got them jump on him, but that was no excuse. Burning through his anti-possession tattoo, though, that had been creative.

Sam never had said how utterly awful it was to be possessed. Dean was fighting it nail and tooth, but the stupid son of a bitch had him on lockdown. Sammy was going to come looking for him. That was probably the demon’s plan, possess Dean so he could get to Sammy and kill them both. Dean would let that happen less than anything. Luckily, or not luckily- it depends on how you look at it; Sam was stuck at the men-of-letter’s bunker because he was getting sicker day by day. That place was demon proof. He had to get back to Sam soon though, because he was barely vertical.

He felt himself smirk, most likely at his desperate thoughts, and he, unwillingly, pulled out his phone. The demon was stupid. Did he really think that Sammy would believe Dean if Dean asked him to get out in the open in Sam’s condition? That was ridiculous! But Dean found himself calling a much different number. Cas’s. Fallen angel, ignore-you-for-a-thousand-year’s Cas’s. Dean wouldn’t kill Cas. That was impossible. You were able to break from demon possession, sure even Sam had broken through Lucifer’s! He had to now; he needed press that end call button before any harm was done.

Not that he would be able to get through to Cas very well… Then again, what did Dean even have to worry about? Cas wouldn’t come just because Dean asked. The thought was preposterous! Cas disappeared and came back with a million more problems for them to deal with, and that was always on his own agenda. He always lied and he certainly didn’t trust Dean. The last time Dean had tried to talk to Cas, Cas had stated how he was tricked by Metatron and the angel’s had fallen, and that they wanted his head. He used that as an excuse to not even check in with Dean in the last few weeks.

Dean didn’t need to worry about Cas; he needed to worry about the fucking demon killing him; subsequently, Sammy being all alone until he died.

But, in complete horror and surprise, Dean found himself saying hello to Castiel. Now Cas answered? How about the times Dean himself had actually called? What about all the times Dean had prayed to him, asking him how to help Sammy? Dean knew that Cas couldn’t just heal Sam. Dean also knew that Cas had fallen; he was an angel, but he had firsthand experience that that didn’t mean Cas was weak or out of the loop. He flinched away from the painful memory of Cas showing up when he was trying to say yes to Michael and beating the shit out of him like it was nothing. And that was when he was fallen.

“Hello Dean,” Cas greeted, his voice calculated and low. “Are you hurt? Is something wrong?” Dean felt like shouting at Cas that there’d been something wrong for weeks and he hadn’t cared. Why care now, the one time Dean actually really didn’t want to be in communication with him? It made Dean furious, and he could feel the demon feeding on his enraged emotions.

“Fallen angels…” the demon said in Dean’s voice. It was scared and practiced. “They’re after me and say that if you don’t come they’ll kill Sammy and me,” Dean continued. He had to stop, but the words kept flowing from his lips regardless. Every inch of his body was under the power of this demon. One of Abaddon’s useless henchmen, how could he have failed this much?

“Dean, I can’t just pop places... I have to drive. Tell them that. I’m sorry, Dean…” Cas trailed off.

“Hurry Cas! I’m at Lebanon, Kansas!” the demon lied to Cas. Well, besides where he was. That was accurate. But Cas wouldn’t come now… of all the times Dean needed Cas, he wouldn’t come now, when all Dean needed was for him to stay away. “Fight it,” Dean thought. This whole being possessed this was a lot worse than it was cracked up to be. Not that anyone ever said it was a piece of cake (or pie), but it was so much worse than he imagined. He knew the demon would know how to get to him, get to Cas... he was pretty much downloading his worst thoughts as he spoke. Dean couldn't imagine how awful it had been for Sam, with Meg playing on his worst fears, trying to get Dean to kill him. But that was years ago, and Meg was dead. Now it was Dean in this horrid position. He wished he at least knew what the demon wanted.

After several hours of biding his time, and not harming his meat suit… which was Dean, the demon got a call from Cas. Not five minutes later did Cas, driving what appeared to be a stolen  muscle car, park and get out walking towards Dean.

“Dean? The angels?” Cas said, looking around at the alleyway in the back of this town confused.

“Oh, _Cas_ … is this the _only_ way I can talk to you? Of course it is. I wanted to speak with you. That’s all. But that seems out of the options lately.” The words slid of Dean’s tongue and he found himself agreeing with a demon. That made him feel awful and he felt red anger fill his veins towards the demon for doing this.  Castiel's face returned a look of unrestrained anger.

The demon looked full on at Cas. He was wearing worn down clothes and no trench coat. It must’ve gotten destroyed, but the thought put a lump in Dean’s throat and Dean felt the demon relishing at the moment. Demons are such sadists…

\---

Castiel felt anger pounding through his veins. He had been staying away for a reason, and while he didn’t leave Dean on good terms…

Maybe his anger was unjustified. It most definitely was. He felt a wave of guilt; Dean was right. It was just so hard deal with all these human emotions. He’d raced here; stealing the first car he saw the way he’d seen Dean do it before. He just sorta was upset of all the fright and guilt he’d been through in the last few hours. It left him feeling so weak. Maybe it was because he knew sooner or later the angels would come for Dean. He was terrified of how long it would take them to catch up. That was the reason he was staying away from the Winchesters… this time.

“I’m sorry Dean, I’m being hunted. Every single fallen angel wants me dead. I didn’t want that for you,” Castiel said, just hoping Dean would understand. Dean wasn’t even standing right or shifting right. Was he that agitated by Cas’s presence?

“I kept praying to you for the last few weeks. I should have known that you always ignore them, though. Sam is dying because of the trials that he did complete. Are you such a heartless jerk to not even pay attention to that?” Dean spat. His voice was so aimed to wound it caught Cas off guard. Dean was right, too; Castiel didn’t even know about Sam. He had guessed something bad would come from those trials though. It had appeared so the last time he saw them.

But that was the thing. Dean didn’t know Castiel was human. He couldn’t hear Dean’s prayers. He saw some left voicemail on his phone thing, but if he called Dean back the angels would notice immediately. He couldn’t risk that.

“Dean, I’m sorry. I wish I could help Sam, but there’s nothing I can do,” he replied, feeling deflated. He was also hungry and tired, having raced over here in the middle of the night. They were both things he was just getting accustomed to.

“Not to mention, not trusting me again about Naomi? I know she was a manipulative thing, I mean she obviously got you to beat me nearly to death, but she knew about Metatron. Now you’ve endangered everyone who ever cared about you, namingly Sam and me. None of which wouldn’t have been a problem if you’d come out of purgatory with me or if you hadn’t disappeared with the angel tablet,” Dean said, hatred and accusation flowing off his tongue. Castiel felt sucker punched. Everything about him was off in his fury. He smirked differently and his envenomed words sounded crueler. Usually he sounded hurt and calculated more than anything. In a way, this was a lot better.

“I’m sorry, Dean… if there was anything I could do. I’d change the past in a second…” Castiel said. Taking Dean's blows as well as he could. Not a word spoken wasn't true, and Cas knew it. Why was Castiel even still alive?

Regardless, he couldn’t help but look around. What if the angels had followed him here? What if he was about to make another mistake that he’d regret forever? Dean smiled at Cas again. Castiel was beginning to wonder what his actual motive to bringing him here was.

\---

Dean couldn’t stop screaming in his own head. Cas looked so different and the expression on his face each time the fucking demon said another lie, well… more like sentence, was torturous. Dean could feel him searching his mind for pieces of information that would hurt Cas the most. Since when are the demons after Cas, anyways? He thought it was the angels who wanted his head on a plate. The poor man. Both Heaven and Hell fighting hard to kill him. Maybe he thought now that the only people he thought cared did too.

The demon kept feeding of Dean’s anger. Dean didn’t mean to let it out like this. If he did find Cas, he would found a way to forgive him again. He'd end up letting Cas in for him leave him yet again. He was beginning to wonder if Cas was ever going to stay. But he hated seeing Cas like this. He was flinching at every word he, or the demon, said.

“ _Fuck, **CAS**_!” he felt like screaming. “ _Can’t you tell this isn’t me! Can’t you at least use some of the stuff I taught you! Holy water, silver, soap! Come on!_ ” But no words came out. Then some more lines did, but Dean himself didn’t control that. 

"You know, you may as well just kill me. It would save so many of your problems of worrying if the angels have caught up. You nearly have before. In fact, you have, haven’t you? Hundreds of times,” the demon said. This confused Dean. Cas had never killed Dean. He’d always stopped himself.

“I… didn’t know you knew about that…” Cas said, sounding defeated. He was barely looking at Dean anymore. Dean just wanted it to stop. What was the point of this? How did this benefit the demon in any way? He was supposed to be a henchmen of Abaddon! Didn’t Abaddon want him dead? Or maybe this was one of the demons Sam and him had sent back to Hell. Maybe he just wanted to punish Dean as much as he could. He wished he could just get out of this position. Warn Cas. Tell Cas to get prepared for an attack… was the demon planning on hurting Cas?

“Loosely. Only heard bits and pieces from demons listening in on angels. Why don’t you tell me the story?” the demon in Dean said. Dean felt sickly curious, but wanted to hide from the wounded look on Cas's face. It didn’t matter. He couldn’t get distracted, because he obviously wasn’t strong enough as it was.

“Naomi… had me practice… they weren’t really you…” Cas said, now completely looking down. Practice? Practice what? Dean was beginning to feel even more nauseous, not that he could actually be sick, but it still wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

“Practice what?” the demon asked in Dean’s voice. But Dean and the demon knew the answer, so what was the point in Cas saying it? Anyways, Cas had stopped. It wasn’t his fault if he was being controlled by so bitch of an angel. Dean wasn’t in control of what he was doing now. But Dean just had to believe that if it came down to it, he could break this demon’s control. If he started hurting Cas, he could snap out of it.

“Killing you... So you wouldn’t be a problem in getting the angel tablet...” Cas said quietly to the ground. All the energy and life seemed to be drained from him. _“Poor Cas”_ Dean thought. It wasn’t his fault… it just made Dean all the more amazed he’d pulled through when it was really him.

“In which you ran away with because you couldn’t trust me,” the demon said. Cas winced but didn't deny it. Dean couldn’t argue with the point, but he wanted to completely. He wanted to defend everything he said to Cas. He wanted to get Cas’s face up high, looking prideful (not to prideful, though, don’t want him thinking he’s God) and smiling. He wanted Cas to come home with him, and just work through all this shit with him together. To not disappear for once. But that wasn’t an option, even if Dean weren’t possessed.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas said, finally looking up. His bright blue eyed gaze was so full of regret in sorrow Dean wanted to flinch away, and he was good at remaining in eye contact with Cas. Apparently the demon was better because he just stared Cas straight on. “If there was anything I could do for you to forgive me…” he said, his voice so broken.

“Oh, there is,” the demon said. Dean finally got some of the plan now. The demon wanted to break Cas so he’d do something stupid. But Cas wasn’t completely stupid. He wasn’t going to follow another demon’s idiotic plan, whatever it was. “Let me kill you the way you were going to kill me.”

Dean’s heart dropped but he kept on smiling cruelly at Cas. Cas, whose expression folded and retracted, paused. _“ **Cas!** Do you really think I’d say that”_ Dean yelled helplessly. _“I would never do that Cas. You know that!”,_ but Cas couldn’t hear Dean’s screams. “ _You can hear prayers! Dammit Cas why can’t you hear me now! Castiel! Fallen angel of the Lord! I’m possessed. Look at me! I’m possessed!_ ” but Cas didn’t show any signs of hearing him.

Dean was getting desperate, yelling at Cas in his head. Maybe Cas was playing along. Cas could take on a demon, fallen or not. Nothing but worry filled him though, what if he actually hurt Cas? No, that’s impossible. Fallen angels are tough... “ _Cas, please. I’m possessed. Just kill me, okay? If you can’t exorcise the demon, just kill me._ ” And Cas finally looked up, but, instead of showing recognition to what Dean said, he simply nodded. Was he agreeing? Agreeing he’d just kill Dean along with the demon?

“Okay. I really am sorry, Dean,” he said. Dean felt his mouth form into a smile yet again.

\---

Castiel knew he had done nothing but fail and hurt Dean Winchester, but he never thought Dean wanted him dead. It made sense, though; Castiel had nothing to help Dean since the apocalypse. Cas always thought they’d get past the next thing; that Dean would eventually forgive him; that he could redeem himself in some way. But he was wrong. Who was he to think he had a right to forgiveness after everything he’d done? Maybe this was the one way to redeem himself to Dean. Maybe Dean would live on with the realization that Cas really was sorry and had never wanted to hurt Dean. Castiel deserved to die anyways. This seemed the most fitting. The person he’d rescued, who he’d later fallen for, the person he’d cared for more than anything else in all of eternity, would kill him. After everything he’d done, he’d deserve nothing less.

Dean kept smiling. He was going to enjoy this, wasn’t he? That was good. Dean was never happy and he deserved some more happiness in his life. Castiel couldn’t help but worrying that he would regret this, though. I mean, it was a crazy idea, but what if later on Dean feels guilty?

“But you can’t feel bad later. I’m allowing you,” Cas said. Dean grinned again, in such a way that seemed so unlike Dean. Maybe he’d spent the last few weeks just boiling over his feelings of resentment towards Cas. But then again, there was a time when Castiel had wanted to kill Dean, and he knew if he had done it; it would’ve eventually’ve been his undoing. But this was different, wasn’t it? Dean probably spent a long time thinking about this. He was probably making a good decision, too. A very good one. Cas had nearly forgotten how many angels wanted to capture Dean because of him. Yes, this was for the best.

Anyways, he couldn’t stand any more blows. He needed it to be over. He needed the pain to stop. Dean grabbed Cas’s hand and flung the newly-human into a wall. Cas was no longer an angel and his fragile body took a minute to gain enough strength to stand up. The mundane pain was nothing compared to how broken he felt. Winded, he saw the Dean come towards him. Cas said nothing and did nothing as Dean twisted his arm till it snapped. Cas couldn't help it- he screamed. He had sworn to himself he wouldn't but he was so freshly knew to the feeling of bones snapping.

It was much more difficult for Dean than it had been for Cas, since Dean was human, but Dean was strong enough. Cas cried out in pain and did not take it near as well as Dean had. He was not used to this white hot pain, and he certainly wasn’t used to Dean being the one inflicting it upon him. He didn’t ask for Dean to stop, though; he had to be strong enough for this. It would end in the end. Human as he was, he would end up dead. He wondered if Dean was surprised by how easily Castiel was breaking. He probably knew how pathetic and human Castiel was now. He punched Cas in the face with so much force Cas could barely breathe. He was so not used to pain. He sucked in a breath, preparing for another attack. “ _Soon it will all be over. Dean will live happier because of this,_ ” he thought. It was all he had to hold on to as Dean fist impacted his face numerous times. “ _It will end and Dean will be happier._ ”

\---

Dean, in complete shock, mentally gaped at what was going on. He would’ve been sick if he had any control over his own body. What was Cas doing? He wanted to yell at the bastard to fight him at least! He didn’t raise a hand against Dean. Dean watched as he broke Cas, the angel of the Lord, the one who saved him from years of torture and torturing, break at the pain he was putting him under. Dean tried to stop, he had to. But his willpower must’ve been down from shock or something. He had to fix this; he had to stop before Cas was dead.

Cas was human, wasn’t he? A fallen angel would be surprised if someone they thought was a mere human made them bleed that much, and Dean was sure making Cas bleed. Cas was going to die because of him. He had to stop this. Part of what happened over that tablet had been Cas breaking free of the control, so this had to be too, right? But no matter how much rage and fury and distraught Dean felt and no matter how much he fought, he couldn’t get possession of his actions. Maybe fighting it wasn’t the answer. Maybe he had to pour his fury and channel it into a simple action, like Bobby with the knife. The demon had no knife on him, though. He just had to fight for control, like Sammy.

He reached into his mind and tried to do it and for a second everything went dark. But then he could move. He turned his head down to see Cas at his feet, bloody. Bracing for Dean to hurt him again. So feeble, but not flinching away. Not fighting him at all. He just accepted the fact Dean wanted to kill him. Dean was in shock, but he had to act fast.

“Cas! You coward!” he yelled. Why hadn’t Cas tried to fight back? Did he really think that little of himself? Did he really think he didn’t deserve to be saved, and instead believe he should be murdered? Dean could feel the demon inside of him, inches away from taking back control. He had, like, five seconds. “Fight back! Get on your feet! Cas!” But then he found his fist rushing towards Cas’s face once again. Cas didn’t even block.

  _“Listen you swarmy son of bitch,”_ Dean said, hoping the fucking demon possessing him would hear. “I _know how to get to my car from here. And I’m breaking free, and there’s a knife there. You’re aware of that knife, correct? I’m going to use that on myself, killing you. So prepare for that,_ ” Dean threatened. He was on the edge of regaining control, but he felt the impact of his fist against Cas’s beaten down, bloody face. That wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt Cas like that again. And the demon knew it too.

Everything went dark as a dramatic swoop of black smoke exited his mouth. He collapsed to the ground, tired beyond belief. But there was Cas to think about. He moved his tired body to get up and walked over to Cas, inches away from unconsciousness. Dean couldn’t heal Cas like Cas had healed him. He’d just put his arm around Cas and helped him walk to the impala. They’d get home; he’d fix him up. He would be good as knew again.

\---

 

Castiel knew it had to be over soon because darkness was forming around his eyesight. He was going to die. Being human, he hopefully wouldn’t get resurrected again. That would be beyond painful. That, he wouldn’t be able to deal with.

For a second there, Dean seemed to switch. Like he was relaxing in his body or something. He screamed at Cas to fight back, but what was the point in that? Why would Dean want to be harmed by Cas? But then black smoke left Dean body, leaving him weak on the ground.

Demon… Dean had been possessed? His brain didn’t register that quite well. Cas tried to move toward Dean, tried to give him comfort, but his arm pang in protest. Dean, instead, came over to him. He put his arm around Cas and lifted him up. Cas was so sore and gasping for breath that he could barely move. Dean situated him in the back of the impala, laying down, no weight on his sore arm. He didn’t say anything. Not a single word.

Dean was possessed? But Dean couldn’t get possessed; he had that tattoo to prove it. Maybe he was hallucinating. Or maybe this was one of the first steps to Hell. Make him feel like he had something before it’s then gone. Well, that would be better than the real world where Dean hates his guts. He wished it would all be gone though, his very existence. Forever dark, as if he never existed at all. As if he never had to feel all this pain. He had no soul because angels didn’t have souls, so isn’t that what was supposed to happen?

Dean brought Castiel to the hospital and they fixed his arm, but that hurt nearly as badly as the injury in the first place. After that, it didn’t take very long to get to where Dean was going. It was the men of letters bunker with the dungeon for demons. Dean helped Cas out until he was with a sofa. Sam was there too, but he was not healthy. Castiel couldn’t just tell his state from looking at him like he used to, but he could tell that much.

Dean didn’t say much to Castiel though. He couldn’t look him in the eyes. Castiel tried his best not to think of Dean constantly calling out to him, asking him for some sort of help, and not getting any reply. Thinking that Cas was just ignoring him again when, in reality, Cas was running for his life while not knowing how to do anything. Dean knew he was human now. He’d seen how frail and brittle he was, but Dean wouldn’t even look at him. Maybe he didn’t want to kill Castiel, but he was certainly still very angry.

Sam took a look at Cas and said hello, and thank goodness you’re alive and stuff (Sam had always had much more faith in Dean; it was an inhuman amount of faith; an amount Castiel did not deserve), but he returned to bed quickly. His eyes had drained of energy and his beard was growing in, which usually happened when Sam wasn’t well.

Dean got him icepacks and tried to help with his arm, but did it all in silence. After Cas was situated well on the couch, Dean left and Cas fell asleep, absolutely exhausted.

\---

Dean got up early the next morning, long before Sammy was awake. Sam was sleeping irregular hours lately and Dean knew sooner or later he was going to end up in the hospital. Cas was sleeping on the couch, still. His faced was bruising over and he looked like Hell, and that was all Dean’s fault. He’d tried so hard fighting it, but he still couldn’t make it till Cas was barely alive. He closed his eyes, trying to get above the waves of pain. Dean still couldn’t get over the fact Cas didn’t fight back. He just let Dean punch him and hurt him… was this some sort of suicidal thing? Cas was human now…could he not deal with it? If so, why couldn’t Cas just’ve come to Dean? Dean had been a human a very long time (well, comparatively to the other things Dean’s been, minus Hell) and he was sure he could’ve given the dude some tips.

“Dean?” Cas said from the couch while Dean was making breakfast.

“Oh, Cas, you’re awake,” Dean choked out. He didn’t really know what else to say. He’d nearly beaten the ex-angel to death. He didn’t want to be in this room right now. It was going to get tense, but Sam was asleep. Where else could he go?

“Dean… when Metatron tricked me, he stole my grace. I’m human now,” Cas said. His voice was weak.

“I… guessed,” Dean replied. Cas’s wounds haunted him and he found it hard to keep eye contact with those azure eyes.

“I’m very hungry,” Cas said. Dean sighed.

“I’m making some food. Would you like scrambled eggs?” Dean asked.

“Yes. Scrambled eggs provide good protein for the human body,” Cas said.

“Don’t talk food around Sammy. He’ll never shut up,” Dean joked, trying to lighten the mood. Cas didn't seem very amused.

Dean made their meal and they ate at the living room table. Cas didn’t try to initiate conversation and Dean certainly wasn’t going to. Looking at Cas made him cringe. It was so much harder looking at Cas hurt than just about anyone else (even including Sammy when it came to this sort of physical injury) because Cas used to just heal up. Cas wasn’t supposed to bruise like this and give Dean a reminder of what his hands had done (in his control or not).

“Cas, I’m sorry,” Dean finally said, after the ex-angel had eaten his eggs and toast. The words were long overdue and came out like poison. Cas just looked surprised.

“Nothing to be forgiven for, you were possessed. It’s that nasty demon’s fault. Who was it anyways?” Cas replied. The words didn’t lesson Dean’s guilt any.

“One of Abaddon’s henchmen, but I think more likely a sadistic bastard. Were you really… going to let me… murder you?” Dean said, feeling at he was retching the words out. He couldn't shake the image of Cas at his feet, so willing for Dean to kill him. Like he thought he deserved some sort of fury from Dean. The thought was haunting his mind. Shock and guilt formed a lump in his throat. “You didn’t fight it, man. You didn’t fight a punch I aimed towards you,” Dean said. He didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about Cas, so weak on the ground in front of him. "I could've _killed_ you. Would you have even fought back?"

“I kind of wish you had,” Cas replied. Dean felt his eyes grow wide.

\---

Dean hating him was about the worst thing Castiel could imagine. He tried to convince himself not of it many times, but it never worked. Dean’s look of betrayal through a ring of Holy fire, the look on his face when he was resurrected and was crazy, or when Dean couldn’t accept his apologies any longer after he’d stolen the angel tablet. Castiel just couldn’t do it anymore.

“Don’t you ever say anything like that,” Dean said angrily. He seemed furious at the idea. Was Dean still loyal towards Cas? After everything? “And don’t you leave again. Fuck the fallen angels. We’ve dealt with worse. Let Heaven and Hell come, but I’m not letting them get to you alone, Cas. We’ll fix Sammy up before he gets too bad. Promise me that?” Dean asked. Cas cringed away, hating himself for what he had to do next.

“I’m not going to be the reason for your death. You’re not safe with me,” Castiel said. Dean always tried to remain emotionless, but his face was hardly of stone. Cas could see the hurt all over it. He could hear Dean saying _"Again? You're doing this again?"._

“You can’t pop out of here. You’re going to have to walk and steal a car and get away like that,” Dean pointed out, his voice hurt and calculated, so much less demon in it. Cas was beginning to wonder why he didn’t even think of Dean not being Dean. Maybe it was because everything the demon had said was true.

“Naomi had me kill you hundreds of times, Dean,” Cas said. Dean didn’t say anything to that. He didn’t look angry, at the least. “The angels know you’re my weakness. You’re the way they’re going to get to me. I can’t have that happen. Unless you lock me as your prisoner, you’re not going to keep me here,” Castiel said.

“Cas… please. Just stay? I need you here. I can’t go through this alone. Sam’s so sick; I need help,” Dean said, now pleading. Why couldn’t have that demon just attacked him a bit longer?

“I’m not help,” Castiel said. He stood up shakily and began to walk out.

“At least wait till you’re healed?” Dean asked; his voice wounded. Castiel shook his head and walked out of the bunker, not even bringing his medication. Dean followed him, trying to at least have Cas pack, but he refused. Angel or not, Castiel had freewill, and Dean could not make him stay.


	2. What a Feeble Thing the Mind Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An idea of why Cas left this time turns Dean desperate while Sam struggles with the aftermath of the Trials.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOT a fluffy happy fic. It is depressing and Dean gets pretty desperate and Sam's condition isn't good at all.

It was worse seeing Cas fumbly walk out along the road. Usually he left without notice, just disappeared, but he couldn't do that anymore. Dean came up with every excuse in the book to try to get Cas to stay, but nothing stuck. Maybe the only message Cas had in his mind was of Dean's fists impacting his face and the sure pain of it... Dean knew exactly how terrible that experience felt.

But Cas surely wasn't this stupid. Didn't he know he wouldn't dangers of being human? He couldn't magically heal himself, and he was already injured. A vivid image of swirling black smoke engulfing his entire view flashed before his eyes and the sharp memory hit him like a ton of bricks. That demon was still out there. What it... Dean found himself cringing away from the very thought... what if that demon  _starting **hunting**_  Cas?

More words came to Dean's mind... hunted... angels... what was Cas thinking? Dean smashed the beer he'd been drinking into the ground. He'd somehow returned exactly to the patch of dirt Cas had disappeared from his sight at. The glass shattered in a green hue and became as many pieces as the very being of Dean felt.

  _"Dammit Cas"._ He thought. Even thinking Cas's name in his head felt wrong. Cas would never hear him pray to him again. That was probably for the best because Dean always got so raw and open and desperate when he prayed to Cas, just hoping that the angel would listen to him for once, plus it never helped anything. So now he was left with his own thoughts, cursing Cas for doing this again. Why was he so stupid? Did he have some back up plan? Did some of the angels have a place for him? But if they were hunting him and blaming him for their fall...

Of course Cas came back with a million more problems for them to deal with. But couldn't he at least stay to figure it out with them? His arm was  _broken_  and his face was  _beaten._ How was he in any condition not to stay in a safe place? Was having to see Dean really  _that_ bad? Dean felt his stomach clench.

But then another image came to mind. It was one of the ones he was trying to block out with everything he could. But how long could he repress everything he'd just let happen so easily? It was of Cas, broken at his feet. The willingness to just let Dean kill him... Dean was still in shock. Another image came to mind, him and Cas just talking. It was of a while back and when Cas mentioned he was suicidal. 

Did Cas leave to commit suicide? Dean bit back this thought immediately. He was overexaggerating. Or maybe he was in denial that Cas left him once again. But all he could see was Cas, human Cas, walking off.

Dean wasn't just going to let Cas  _die._ That was his responsibility, right? If Cas was going to do something this stupid, he should at least be healed. Who knows, maybe Cas got into some medication he wasn't technically prescribed at the doctor's.

Oh, maybe Dean was in denial. But he couldn't find himself thinking that. He'd been standing there like an idiot wondering for over 20 minutes, but now he had to go find Cas. He couldn't have gone too far.

His baby sat there waiting for him to kick her into action. Though  _Dean_ would never say it in a million years, 60's muscles cars don't turn very well, but Dean had long since overcome that minor defect in his beloved car. He swerved with all her horsepower and turned down where he saw Cas go, looking for a trench coated man who wasn't wearing a trench coat.

\---

Every part of Sam felt weak. He felt as if every inch of his body had been bruised repetitively, and, on top of that, he was fighting some virus that had him bleeding from the inside out. He should be in the hospital by now, but he wasn't going there unless it was necessary. He wouldn't want to worry Dean any more than he already was.

Despite his feeble failing condition, Sam felt some sort of strength on the inside. It was... odd. His body was giving in from the inside and yet there was something... pure about it. Maybe it was sort of like Purgatory for Dean.

Sam knew he had to get better, and not for his own sake. Abaddon wanted Dean and him dead, and she was willing to fight for it. Now with Cas back, human, and being hunted... he needed to be on his feet fighting with his brother and his brothers... angel. 

At least Cas was human, though. Sam could tell that some shit went down when his brother showed up from some random demon hunt with Cas, bleeding with a sling around his arm. It was also other things he noticed too. Like how Dean looked at Cas as if Cas would recoil away from him, or how, for what seemed to be the first time, they couldn't meet each other's eyes.

Once the unrecognisable sound of a revving Chevy Impala alarmed Dean's obvious departure, Sam could guess something  _more_ was going on. Especially after he'd heard what sounded like arguing hurt voices.

Sam's muscles started to fatigue from even trying to get up. He was getting more and more useless by the day. This was his entire fault. If he had just had the courage to finish that last trial... to slam those gates of Hell shut... then they'd never have to think about Abaddon or her minions or any other demon ever again. But no, he'd been too weak to do even that. It was the thought of Dean desperately trying to get him back that halted him in the first place. Trying to put everything before yourself is so much more difficult with the person you trust and respect the most telling you to do the opposite. And Sam knew what it was like to live with Dean dead. He couldn't imagine putting Dean through that himself. Especially since Sam would actually be gone this time, or at least that's what he assumed. 

Is that what happened? Is that were the demons killed with the knife or the angels killed with the angel's swords did? Was it blank? Oblivion? Did it just end? Or was there a whole nother place they'd never even heard of over the side of the rainbow, just waiting for those who'd messed up life and death so much they didn't belong in Heaven, Hell or Purgatory? When Sam died, and that date was creepy slowly up, where would he go? Dean would go to Heaven, Cas probably would too (assuming he had a soul now). But where would Sam go?

It was till these thoughts were racing around in his mind for achingly long moments that he realised he was no longer sitting up. Rather, he was on the cold wooden floor of the bunker. He could barely register that in his thoughts though, as senses grew weary and his consciousness grew even weaker.

\---

Dean rapidly typed in Cas's number in his cell, speeding along the side of the road, only slowing if he thought he saw a shadow of a person. Distracted and, though he wouldn't put it this way, emotional, he was in no shape to be driving. Then again, was he ever in a good state to be driving and since when did that stop him?

"CAS? God dammit! Pick up!" he bellowed to the messaging machine. The sound of Cas's voice, curious and taunting just mocked him. How far had he gotten? Selfish son of a bitch, he had to go and try to commit suicide? Didn't he know what he was doing to the world behind him when he did that? How much of a burning desolate crater that caused? Didn't he even think of the pain it would cause Dean and Sam? The entire world would be darker without him, and, with all the scary things in the dark that blemished the surface of the world, they didn't need another reason to find it pitifully horrid.

The longer Dean drove the angrier he got. His mind couldn't linger on the thought of the physical pain he'd put him through, but it still kept coming up in his hindsight. He kept seeing Cas there, not even fighting back. The more he thought about it the more fury built up at Cas, willing to let  _Dean_ kill him. Surely Cas realised how much that would affect Dean? It would've been the end of him. Dean vaguely thought of the time he'd nearly killed Sam from ghost possession, but he couldn't remember the detail. All he remembered was Sam with a bloody nose and the harsh words Sam said about Benny later. He cringed at the thought of what he may have said.

What if Sam woke up while Dean was gone? Would he be worried? Dean typed out a text of " _geting cas wont be gone long"_   while still driving. Once he steady his drive on the road, because oh the irony of himself dying in a  _car_ accident.

Finally Dean saw a shadowed figure along the side of the road. He saw Cas wearily glance at the impala then continue walking, except this time off road into the forest. Dean's stomach twisted at the sight.

He breaked fast enough to cause skid marks and threw the door open.

"Cas, wait," Dean yelled after him, daring his throat not to catch. Cas turned around to look at him, his face bruising now. It looked worse than ever. His arm was in that sling and it hurt to look at him like that.

"Dean, I told you do let me go," Cas said, his voice even raspier than usual. 

"Cas, buddy..." Dean said walking toward him slightly. Cas flinched away through the ten feet distance between them, which sure sucker punched Dean. He looked to the side daring his eyes not to do anything awful and swallowed painfully.

"You don't need to do this Dean," Cas said.

"Do what?" Dean asked. 

"Feel responsible for me," Cas replied. Exasperation filled Dean's bones.

"I'm going to feel fucking responsible if my best friend commits suicide. Cas, what are you thinking?" Dean said, his voice just breaking after he said Cas's name.

"I'm not. I'm fine. You should get back to Sam. The trials really messed him up," Cas said. Dean bit the inside of his lip. Cas had no right to go bringing that up right now. 

"Sam's fine, or he's going to be fine. And so will you in a few weeks after your arm heals," Dean took a breath. He couldn't forget that was his doing. "A few weeks Cas. Just a few weeks. That can't be too bad." Maybe after a few weeks Dean could convince Cas not to make another stupid move. Enough for him to heal. Maybe it would even be enough time for them to get through whatever the Hell they were going through.

"Dean, I'll be fine now. I can take care of myself," Cas said. Dean was suddenly even angrier than before.

"No, Cas, you won't. Something's going to harm you and you don't even have your right arm in action to fight back. Fallen angels are after you, and you know what? I don't care about that. You just need to stay with Sammy and me. You and him can get better. We can deal with this together," Dean said, his voice rising with his anger, but softening as he went along. Cas didn't reply. "Unless... unless you don't want to get better."

"Dean, I am not planning on killing myself."

"Really? Because it didn't seem like when you didn't raise an arm..." Dean's voice failed him and he choked up. "An arm to defend yourself... against me."

"That was different," Cas said quietly. Dean smirked.

"Yeah? Why. And why the Hell would you do that? Have  _me_... why would you do that Cas?" Dean's voice grew weak.

"That was different. That was you," Cas said. Dean didn't know how his legs were supporting him, for they felt so weak.

"You wanted me to kill you." Dean couldn't imagine it. He couldn't imagine the outcome if he had never fought that demon off. Cas's blood on his hands... him gone from this life forever... again...

Even now, it took him fucking long enough to fight it off. One look at Cas could tell you that.

"No, I would let you. Dean, I am not suicidal. And I do not want to go with you. Like it or not, I don't need your help," Castiel said, his voice with no warm in it. Dean breathed deeply. He knew this would happen eventually, didn't he? It was so obvious, and he was a fool for trying to convince himself that Castiel ever felt loyalty towards him at all. How could he? It seemed that Dean had just convinced him by playing on his heart to do anything. When he fell, when he saved Sam, when he went to kill Dick Roman with him. Cas's eyes looked sad when he looked at Dean, and he just wanted flinch away from his gaze, but he didn't.

"Tell me that again when you can use your right arm," Dean said, his voice tight and on lock down. "The fallen angels could, could  _kill_ you, Cas."

"Anything could kill me. Whether I'm with you or not with you. I'm not an angel, Dean," Cas said. But Dean had stopped listening after Cas just acted plainly fine at the thought of his death, and honestly, that was something Dean reacted differently with. Maybe Dean's head was just not working properly ever since Cas blatantly told him he didn't need him. Dean's mind couldn't stop flashing back to the prayers Dean and said to him, how vulnerable he'd been. Cas hadn't cared, but that didn't mean Dean didn't.

"Yeah, well I'm not going to let it," Dean said. He might have sounded aggressive, ominousing, and hurt, but his next action was even more so. Dean closed the space between him and Cas; Cas looking only half worried and backed off only a bit. Then, lightning quick, Dean punched Cas in the stomach. With an expression of untouched shock, he went to protect himself and covered his now sore stomach with his hands, and with his head being lowered, Dean sent a blow towards the back of Cas's head. Cas fell to the ground in a pathetic human clump, knocked out by Dean. Dean was in horror of his actions. He stood back, his body heaving, full of adrenaline and, soon to be, regret.

***

How did he get here? How did he end up with his best friend... with  _Cas_  handcuffed in the back of his Impala on the way back to a place where his brother was fighting death? Dean wasn't an idiot; he knew this couldn't end well. 

Cas began to stir in the back seat. He was probably about to register what Dean had done. He tried to believe he was doing the right thing, but that was hard to believe with Cas bloody behind him.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Cas said groggily. He shook his hands, the sound of metal clicking. Dean looked back at him again, and inhaled sharply after not realising he'd been holding a breath back.

"Keeping you safe," Dean said, hoping his voice sounded even. He turned into what seemed like a place with nothing but secretly was his home. Cas shook his hands again and took an exasperated sigh.

Dean got out of the Impala. He hoped he could make this end up okay, make things be okay, but did he mess up too much this time? He took another few ragged deep breaths before opening the door to let Cas out.

"Dean, stop it, please..." Cas said.

"As soon as you're good again," Dean replied. He helped Cas out, but not letting him out of grip. He got him into the bunker and handcuffed him to the couch he'd been on, his left (unbroken) arm cuffed to the wood in the couch leg.

"Dean..." Cas said. 

"Sleep... well," Dean said. He turned then to walk away. He also had to check on Sam...

"Sammy?" Dean called. No reply. No big deal, Sam was just sleeping. Fighting this thing off with good old rest. Oh, who was Dean kidding? His anxiety was going through the roof. "Sammy?" he repeated.

He entered Sam's bedroom to find him on the floor, burning up. It was hotter than hardly any natural fever Dean had ever seen. He couldn't deal with this... not now. 

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, but Sam was completely unconscious. Dean ran out to Cas, who seemed to be actually trying to get to sleep. He got his key out and uncuffed Cas. "Cas, I need your help. Get all the ice we have in the freezer. It's in a bucket and you'd probably be able to carry it," Dean said.

"How do you know I won't leave?" Cas asked. Dean froze but only for a second. Sam was hurt; he had not time for moments of paralyzation.

"This is Sam. I'm just going to have to trust you for it," Dean replied. He hurried back to the bathroom to run the cold water. This  _had_ worked twice before, so it had to work now. Once before the trials and once after, just after, when he was scared Sam would never wake up. Something about the complete jolt of cold water seemed to help Sam somehow. Dean wasn't sure if it was to do with the fact his body was naturally processing things or trying to burn something away, or if it had to do with something very different.

Dean had no idea rather Cas would come through for him, but upon carry Sam as well as he could to the bathroom Cas returned with ice buckets in both hands (he's had 4 ready just in case). He set the one in his right arm down and then continued to put the ice in the water, and Dean did the same. Then they heaved Sam into the water.

He remained unconscious.

"Cas, what do I do?" Dean asked helplessly. Not that Cas would even know the answer. He wouldn't've been able to save Sam when he was fully angel, and he couldn't help at all now.

Cas looked helplessly around before submerging Sam fully into the water.

"What if he drowns? Usually he wakes up by now, Oh God..." Dean said. He glanced desperately at Cas who had fresh worry on his face which probably mirrored his own. But then, in the second Dean swore it was a miracle, Sam emerged from the water, gasping for air.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, helping him out of the water. Cas grabbed Sam a towel. Sam coughed out, breathing heavily.

"Dean," Sam choked out. 

"Yeah? Sam?" Dean replied. Sam's temperature wasn't so burning anymore. 

"You gotta stop doing that," he said, with a painful grin on his face. Dean put his arm around Sam. Sammy was okay, he was going to be okay. He was going to be okay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... I'm not very good at writing but emilysername asked for more so here's another chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> First shot at fanfiction, but I've written stories before. Hope I could at least get the characterization down because I should be able to improve from there. I hoped you liked it, and I'm terribly sorry not sorry for the ending.


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